


Are You Ready to Rescue Your Friendship-Princess?

by silversky



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Asexual Character, F/F, Misunderstandings, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-04 20:35:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5347712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silversky/pseuds/silversky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She trailed off as Hannah broke. Giggling softly, the woman brought her tea up to her face, trying to hide her amusement, but Charlie could see the humor in the crinkles around her eyes and the gentle shake of her shoulders. The sight sent something warm zipping through her body, stopping to rest in a floundering mess at her heart. Charlie stilled.</p><p>Oh.</p><p>Shit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Are You Ready to Rescue Your Friendship-Princess?

“Give it to me.”

“No.”

“I said give it to me!”

“And I said you can go screw yourself!”

“I swear to God Winchester,” Charlie moved in closer to her masked friend, bringing her face next to his so her growl could be heard over the thumping party music. “If you don’t give me that Snickers right now, I’m lifting the embargo on college stories. I’m not in a relationship; I’ve got nothing to lose. You on the other hand...you really want Cas hearing the one about you and the Dr. Sexy cosplayer from sophomore year?”

Pulling the brightly colored bowl in his arms closer to his chest, Dean laughed triumphantly. “Threaten all you want kiddo, it’s not use. Cas and I,” here he paused to pose dramatically, “are in something called an ‘adult relationship’, one based on trust, honesty, and open communication about kinks.”

Charlie threw her hands in the air, both in despair and in disgust, and turned around. Knowing the amount of candy Dean and Cas had hauled in for the party, she was relatively sure there had to be at least one other full-size Snickers left. She scanned the room, trying to see past the drunkenly dancing monsters and superheroes (clear signs of a Halloween party thrown by nerds) for another candy bowl.

And then an angel walked in.

For a moment Charlie simply stared, mesmerized by the white-clad form standing awkwardly on the other side of the room. Then she whipped around and hissed, _“Who is that?”_

“Huh?” Dean, who apparently had continued monologuing, gazed back uncomprehendingly.

“Her!” As subtly as possible, which wasn’t very, considering the amount of booze she’d put away that night, Charlie waved at the brunette beauty by the door. “This is your party Dean, you should know who everyone is.”

Pushing back his Batman mask for a better view, Dean squinted in the direction of Charlie’s flailing. “Hey,” he said after a second, “that’s Hannah! I didn’t think she was gonna be able to make it, Cas is gonna be so psyched.”

He darted across the room towards her, Charlie dodging another Batman and a werewolf to rush after. Hannah? The name sounded familiar, but she couldn’t place it. Was she one of Cas’ coworkers? A friend from college, dropping by for a night of Halloween fun?

“Look at you!” Dean shouted as he reached Hannah’s side. She grinned a little hesitantly when she saw him and Charlie’s blood sang. Christ, this woman was gorgeous. Up her close her eyes turned out to be a deep, beautiful blue, and despite being pinned down by a fluffy halo, Charlie was sure her hair was silky smooth. And that wasn’t even getting into the other...assets Hannah had. If Hannah was even remotely into women, then tonight was gonna be amazing.

“Charlie!” She blinked up at Dean, who was waving a hand in her face. “Snap out of it kiddo, I know you haven’t had that much to drink yet.”

“Don’t call me that,” Charlie grouched, batting his hand away. “I’m only two years younger than you, not ten.”

“Two years and five months,” Dean retorted, shooting a wink at Hannah, who was looking on bemusedly. “Not as young as Sam, but not one of the grown-ups yet either.”

“So you’re saying I’m definitely a child, seeing as I’m younger than both of you?”

Charlie gave a small sigh as Hannah finally spoke; her voice was as beautiful as the rest of her. “How old are you then?” she managed to ask.

Hannah turned towards Charlie and smiled again. “I was born in July actually, only a month later than you, so still twenty five.”

“We better team up against the old folks then!” Charlie exclaimed, grabbing Hannah’s arm and spinning around to face Dean. “Two against one old man, what do you think about them odds?”

“I think I’m gonna go get your brother,” Dean said dryly. “He think’s you’re still out of town, and has been acting like a major grump about it to be perfectly honest.”

“Do go get him,” Hannah replied eagerly, almost bouncing with excitement. “We’ve both been so busy, we haven’t really talked in months.”

“I’ll leave you two ladies to it then,” Dean said, flipping his mask down. “I’ll be back.” Then he dove into the mass of partiers, off on a quest to find his doubtlessly smashed boyfriend.

There was a short silence, before Charlie’s tired mind caught onto something Dean had said. “Wait a minute, Cas is your brother? And you’re here? I thought his family was full of—” She stopped. Best not to insult the family of the girl you’re trying to hit on within minutes of meeting her.

Hannah laughed, head thrown back, eyes crinkling. “Don’t worry, I get it. Castiel doesn’t really get along with the rest of us. And it’s true,” she shrugged, “some of the family needs to learn there’s more to life than rules and order, but we aren’t all that extreme.”

“Good to hear,” Charlie said, putting on what she liked to call her ‘down to get down’ face. Dean called it her ‘down to have an eyebrow fall off’ face, but what did he know? It had taken that nerd two years to ask Cas out; he was clearly a failure at flirting. “Glad to know some of you know how to live a little wild.” Then she blatantly raked her eyes up and down the other woman’s body.

“Oh.” Hannah froze. “Um, I don’t...I’m sure you’re very, but, well you see…”

Shit. Leave it to her to freak out the one relative Cas had that didn’t hate all his friends. “No no it’s fine! I’m sorry for upsetting you; you’re straight, it’s my fault.”

“I’m asexual!” Hannah blurted out, eyes wide. Her bare arms were crossed, fingers nervously tapping. Even as the words left her mouth it twisted, as if she regretted saying them.

“Oh.” Now it was Charlie’s turn to freeze. That was it, she was now the most inconsiderate person on the planet. Not even hitting on a straight woman, which she’d done enough to learn how to make it come across as a compliment, but hitting on someone who was clearly freaked out by the idea of sex, period. Way to go Bradbury, way to go.

“Is that going to be a problem?” In the pause, Hannah had somehow gotten even stiffer.

“What? _No!”_ Charlie was pretty sure this conversation couldn’t get any worse. So screw it.

“Alright, you know what?” She stepped back, holding out her hand. “Let’s start over. Hi, my name is Charlie Bradbury: gamer, lesbian, and totally cool with being your platonic friend. I know Dean from college. Who are you?”

Hannah stared at the hand in front of her for a moment before reaching out to gingerly take it. “Hello Charlie. My name is Hannah Novak: photographer, asexual, and very glad to have met you. I’m Castiel’s younger sister.” Then she grinned, and this time it was a soft, warm thing that made Charlie’s drink-addled stomach lurch. “Let’s be friends.”

Charlie could handle that. Hannah seemed like a legitimately nice person and, now that she thought about it, it was probably sleazy to sleep with your host’s sister at his own party. Friends. It sounded nice.

* * *

“You want me to _what?”_

“Model for me.” Hannah shifted nervously. The movement was subtle, but Charlie noticed all the same. While they may had only known each other for a short time, Charlie had learned how to decipher her new friend’s moods surprisingly quickly. She’d been acting strangely the whole time she’d been over, constantly glancing from Charlie, lounging on her couch in an oversized Weasley sweater, bare feet up on the coffee table, to the stacks of games and comics scattered around the living room, to the oddly bulging purse she’d kept fiddling with since she entered the apartment. Even so, it had taken almost an hour for her to come out with what she wanted.

“The theme of my new project, well it’s a little hard to explain, but it involves red and light and beauty and,” she gestured to Charlie’s hair, then at the rest of her, “well, you’re perfect.”

Charlie ignored the shivery feeling she got at that description. It was even more potent coming from Hannah, who, despite resting quite firmly in Charlie’s ‘not for sex’ category, she still found beautiful. “Just because I fit your color scheme doesn’t mean I know anything about modeling. Sure, I’ve done silly little fashion shows while shopping, but those don’t mean a thing. I’m not kidding, you’d be better of with someone trained. You’re not gonna be getting any grace or poise if you try to use me.”

Hannah drooped slightly, and Charlie felt an incongruous wave of guilt. This was in her friend’s best interests, so why did she feel so bad?

“It has to be you Charlie.” The strength of Hannah’s voice was at odds with her shrunken demeanor, but there was a hint of stubbornness in her expression. Charlie could suddenly see the family resemblance with Cas. It seemed neither were the type to back down from a fight.

“But why?” Voice quiet, it was all Charlie could think to say. The mood of the conversation had shifted, abruptly turning serious.

“Because,” Hannah’s eyes narrowed, as if she were staring at something in the distance. “It’s not like you’re the only person I’ve asked. I tried other models, professional ones. None of them…” she paused again, hands coming up to wave helplessly. “Anna was sweet, but we didn’t click. Rowena was too much; too much energy, too much ego, too much eyeshadow. And Abaddon was just scary.”

“But then I thought, really thought, about what I was trying to convey,” Hannah straightened, fixing Charlie with a look that challenged her to interrupt. She didn’t. “And it wasn’t some stranger who happened to be a redhead. It wasn’t about color schemes or perfect poses or any of that technical stuff. I realized my vision had always needed something more, needed you. This is art, and you have this spark, this presence that I would be privileged to try to capture.”

Finally opening her purse, Hannah took out what appeared to Charlie’s untrained eye to be a very expensive camera, though she wouldn’t be able to name any of the parts if asked. Her grip was strong, her stance unyielding. Framed by the faint winter light shining in through Charlie’s big bay window, dressed simply in a black sweater and jeans, Hannah somehow resembled nothing less than a warrior, daring the world to oppose her. “Now, everything I need is either in here or in my car, and I know you have nothing to do this afternoon. Are we going to do this or not?”

And really, how could Charlie say no to that?

* * *

“I have a favor to ask,” Charlie blurted out, interrupting the peaceful quiet that had settled between the two women, practically alone in the tiny coffee shop. Hannah glanced up from her book, head already tilted in its customary questioning position that Charlie refused to let herself find cute. She was silent as Charlie fidgeted with her styrofoam mug, waiting for the other woman to continue.

“You know the queer advocacy group I sometimes go to?” This was so presumptuous.

“The Raging Lesbains Initiative? Yes, I remember.” Hannah’s tone was serious, her voice betraying no humor.

Charlie sat up rigidly, pointing firmly across the table. “You don’t get to hold that against me! I was very drunk when I called it that, and Becky had spent half an hour that meeting raving about gay erotica. I’m a lesbian Hannah, I don’t give a fuck about penises, not one single fuck. It was like trying to sit through someone pornographically describing painting when you’re colorblind, or, or…”

She trailed off as Hannah broke. Giggling softly, the woman brought her tea up to her face trying to hide her amusement, but Charlie could see the humor in the crinkles around her eyes and the gentle shake of her shoulders. The sight sent something warm zipping through her body, stopping to rest in a floundering mess at her heart. Charlie stilled.

Oh.

Shit.

“You were saying?” Hannah continued, unaware of the utterly craptastic realization Charlie’d just had. “I’m sorry about the name thing. I won’t call it that if it upsets you.”

“No no you’re good, I’m good, everything’s good!” Dammit, she was getting flustered. “I know it was a joke, you don’t need to apologize.” There, that sounded normal, right? Normal and platonic, no _completely inappropriate_ crush going on here, no sir no way.

“I’m glad I didn’t cross a line.” Hannah set her tea down, face determined. “I know we’ve only met a few months ago, but I consider you one of my closest friends. I’d hate to cause you to feel uncomfortable.” She winced, looking away. “Which I probably did just then, I’m sorry. No one in my family is particularly good at this ‘friends’ thing. I can never tell when I’m going overboard.”

And this was what made Charlie’s newly realized feelings so awful. Hannah was so sweet, so open, and so goddamn happy to be Charlie’s friend. Admitting she wanted to change their relationship would ruin something her friend valued deeply.

“Hannah, it’s fine,” Charlie reassured her, or at least tried to. ‘What if Hannah started to reciprocate though?’ Charlie’s mind whispered. No, she wasn’t going down that road. Daydreaming was a very bad idea; their friendship had formed on the basis of them rejecting a more intimate relationship, for Elrond’s sake!

“That’s good to hear,” Hannah said, then sat back, relaxing. A group of chattering teens walked into the building, shattering the silence that had gathered. “Alright, I’ve embarrassed myself enough for this conversation. Now it’s your turn. What did you want to ask me?”

Right. Charlie cleared her throat, trying to focus. “You already said you know my group?”

A nod.

“Well, since Valentine’s Day is coming up, they’re trying to organize a sort of, relationship awareness day I guess? A bunch of people from the community talking about the way being queer has affected their love lives.” So far, so good.

“The thing is though,” Charlie leaned forward. “I was taking a look at the list of speakers, and there isn’t anyone from the A part of the acronym. We’ve got two lesbians, a dmab bisexual girl, a trio of guys in a poly relationship, but no…”

“No one like me,” Hannah offered. She raised an eyebrow. “And you were hoping I might speak?”

“Only if you’re comfortable with it,” Charlie rushed to add. “I don’t want to, like, reduce you to your sexuality or anything. It’s just, that’s kind of a glaring omission and it seemed irresponsible of me to not at least ask.”

For a moment, Hannah didn’t reply. At her inscrutable expression, Charlie started anxiously drumming her fingers on the cheap plastic table. The thumpthumpthump seemed to catch the other woman’s attention and she moved to catch Charlie’s gaze.

“This is important to you? Me talking about myself?”

There was a question beneath that question, one Charlie couldn’t quite figure out. She plowed on anyway. “Well, yeah. You’re the only openly ace person I’ve met, and I bet it’ll be the same for the rest of the group, but that’s no excuse for ignorance. Even if it’s just this once,” she felt her voice grow louder, “even if you’re not some ace spokeswoman, it’s important that people get the chance to learn about who you are. I don’t want anyone to meet people like you and think there’s something wrong with them!”

Charlie cut off her unexpected, unplanned frenzy. Her companion’s eyes were wide, her mouth small, delicate oval. Both women blushed.

“Then I’ll do it,” Hannah declared. A glance down at her now lukewarm tea, then she returned her piercing gaze Charlie. “I’ve never...I mean, I’m not ashamed of who I am, but I don’t like to talk about it. You know that.”

Charlie nodded. Except now she was confused. “Why are you agreeing then?”

“Because I’m the only one who can,” was the reply, soft but sure. “Because I may know there’s nothing wrong with me for not wanting sex, for being happy and fulfilled outside of a relationship, but I also know that I’m lucky in that knowledge. And if I can help other people be as passionate about my side of things as you are,” a smile, one that lit up Charlie’s insides like a summer day, “then I have all the reason in the world.”

* * *

Charlie glowered at her phone, the lifeless device lying uselessly next to her on the floor.

“I still don’t get why you won’t just text her,” Dean muttered as he poked at his breakfast. “I’m not used to you being such a wuss with chicks.”

“OK, first of all,” Charlie stretched until she was upright and facing Dean, who was perched in ratty pyjamas on his counter. “Hannah is not some chick. She’s my friend, she’s practically your sister-in-law, and she’s amazing.”

Mouth full, Dean raised his hands defensively, before his now unsupported plate began slipping off his lap and they dropped to steady it. He nodded at her to continue.

“Secondly, I _have_ texted her.” And left multiple voicemails, and got halfway to her apartment before chickening out and turning around, but Dean didn’t need to know that. “This isn’t about me being scared to talk to her, this is about her not wanting to talk to me.”

She slumped to the floor again, squishing her face into the ugly flowered carpet Cas inexplicably found charming. Her life was a trainwreck. Would she feel better if she changed her name and moved across the country? She’d always liked the name Celeste, she could use that.

“That’s it,” Dean dropped lightly down and strode towards the prostrate woman, expression stern. “Enough of this pity party Charlie. You’re getting up,” he grabbed her arm and pulled, “you’re eating some breakfast,” he set her in front of his abandoned plate, “and you’re telling me what exactly is going on.” Then he sat on the stool next to hers and crossed his arms, waiting.

“You’re a dick,” Charlie grumbled, glaring at the plate of… “When the hell did you start eating egg-white omelettes?”

Dean winced. “Since Sam infected Cas with his latest health kick. I’m picking my battles; notice the lack of green smoothies.”

Charlie snorted at the mental image of Dean fending of a crazed, smoothie-wielding Cas. She’d have to remember to tell Hannah about—and just like that, her mood fell.

“Seriously kid.” Dean’s voice was concerned, and when she looked up he was sporting the puppydog eyes he claimed only his little brother could use. “I’ve never seen you this freaked about a girl. What happened?”

“It’s cause I was stupid,” Charlie mumbled, feeling like she was back in high school, being comforted by her mother. Dean could be such a parent sometimes.

“Doesn’t matter,” Dean said decisively. “You’re upset, Cas says Hannah’s acting weird, and I want you two back to your normal, disgustingly functional selves asap.”

“Alright then,” Charlie began tentatively, trying to figure out how to explain the situation without getting too distraught. “The thing is, I’m not quite sure what happened. Like, I know why I’m upset, but I don’t know why that was bad enough to make Hannah start ignoring me.”

“And you’re upset because…?”

“Because she can’t love me back!” The fork she’d been fiddling with slammed onto the counter, and she felt tears prickling her eyes. She grimaced at the, frankly incredible, speed with which she’d lost her composure.

“Ooookay.” Big hands pulled her out of her thoughts and into a tight hug. Charlie closed her eyes and breathed in Dean’s warm scent, oddly feeling like she was home. “I’m gonna need a bit of context for that, but it’s gonna be fine.”

Now that she’d started, she didn’t seem to be able to stop. “I went to that presentation this weekend, that relationship thing she gave on asexuality, which of course I did I mean I asked her to do it of course I’d go. And everything was going fine, I was being amazing moral support and we were having fun, only,” she gasped in a breath, “then she suddenly started talking about the aromantic spectrum and I realized...I realized just how hopeless this crush was and how utterly stupid I’d been acting. I ended up sneaking out trying not to cry.”

At last, the words ran out. Charlie panted softly, shame at her outburst and the memory of her actions flooding her body. She tried to wriggle away, but Dean shifted back first, his hands braced against her shoulders as he caught her gaze.

“I’m assuming you didn’t talk to Hannah about any of this after your freakout?” Dean’s voice was steady, unnervingly so.

“No, I,” She gulped and looked away. This was going to sound bad. “I might have driven home? And turned my phone off for the rest of the day?”

Dean sighed, deep enough to almost be a groan, and lifted his hands so he could rub them against his face. “I thought so. Frack it, how did I become the reasonable one here?”

She glanced up in surprise.

“Charlie, you know I think you’re awesome, and you’re absolutely allowed to be upset,” he paused, then brought his hands back to Charlie’s shoulders, fingers digging into the weave of her sweater, “but if you can’t figure out why Hannah might possibly be upset with you, then I’ve gotta wonder if you’ve been replaced by some less awesome, self-absorbed clone, cause this is sorta blindingly obvious.”

Charlie breathed in deep for a few seconds. “I’ve only been think about myself, haven’t I?” That knowledge, at least, was obvious now. Sure, she’d been thinking about Hannah, but only in the context of her own troubles. She’d never stopped wallowing in her misery long enough to try to see things from her friend’s point of view.

“No shit kiddo,” Dean replied. “Took you this long to figure that out?”

“She must be so pissed,” Charlie moaned, twisting away from Dean’s hold to lay her head on the counter. “I run off like some, I don’t know, prejudiced arophobic asshole, then try to brush it off like it was nothing? Text her with a bullshit excuse and pretend her orientation isn’t important? No wonder she’s ignoring me.”

“Not to mention,” Dean added in a mock whisper, “you’re the one who asked her to talk about it in the first place. Convincing someone to open up about their sexuality, knowing that they’re normally very private about it, only to reject them when they do? Pretty dick move there.”

“Not helpful Dean!” Charlie’s face burned as she scowled upwards. She couldn’t tell if the tears threatening to spill were from sadness, anger, or some torturous mixture of the two.

“I’m tired of being the reasonable one,” he stated with a shrug, demeanor only slightly sheepish. “Besides, I always deal with tension with humor, it’s one of my virtues.”

“This isn’t the time, virtue or not,” Charlie said grumpily. “I’ve ruined things worse than I thought, and at this point I’m not even being melodramatic.”

“Which is exactly why you need humor!” Dean bounced to his feet. “Buck up, your Highness. Your lady love may be out of reach, banished through the combined efforts of her natural inclinations and your own screw-ups. Your major, pretty cringeworthy screw-ups—”

“Gee, thanks Dean, this conversation is really helping me not feel like my life is in shambles.”

A callused hand gripped her own. “But all that just means that you’ve reached the climax of your adventure.” The grip tightened, dragging her upright, until Charlie stumbled to her feet in front of her beaming friend. “You have to make sacrifices to defeat the dragon, right? As long as you beat it and rescue the princess, no one’s going to care that it was originally your own mistakes.”

It took a few moments for Charlie to wrap her head around Dean’s metaphor, but she eventually nodded. “And my relationship with Hannah is the princess?”

“Exactly!” Dean leaned down to stare Charlie right in the eyes. “Now, are you ready to rescue your friendship-princess, Queen of Mondoor?”

Charlie grinned, hope filling her chest for the first time since that disastrous Valentine’s Day. Never getting to date Hannah wasn’t the end of the world. She wasn’t going to whine like an asshole about getting friendzoned, abandoning her friend the moment she proved herself unavailable. Hannah was her friend, first and foremost, and it was worth fighting to keep the woman in her life. She could fix this. She had to. “You bet your bisexual ass I am, Handmaiden. Let’s go slay a dragon.”

* * *

“I have no idea what I’m doing.” Two days after resolving to make things right with Hannah, Charlie was still lost as to how she could get that to happen. She knew she needed to confess the reasons behind her actions—which was bound to be wonderfully awkward—but Hannah was continuing to ignore Charlie’s attempts to contact her, and she didn’t want to show up in person without warning.

Dorothy set down her phone and glared. Her annoyance was a bit understandable. After all, Charlie had been moping around her office for the past hour, and didn’t have any plans on leaving soon. “And you’re here, complaining about this to me, why?”

“Because you’re my friend!” Charlie exclaimed, then shifted guiltily. “Also because Dean got tired of my ‘post-pity party pity party’. He said there was only so much relationship angst he could put up with before he needed to cleanse his soul and kicked me out. Honestly, I think he missed Cas and decided to Skype him, but that’s just my opinion.”

“And, again,” Dorothy raised a beautifully skeptical eyebrow. Charlie inwardly sighed in envy. “What made you think I’d be any more accommodating? Hell Red, half the reason we broke up was because I hated relationship drama. This isn’t exactly my forte.”

“That’s the thing though.” Charlie leaned across the table separating them, resolve radiating from her body. “We broke up, but we stayed friends. I need to know how to do that with Hannah, even if we weren’t ever dating.”

“Because talking about new relationships is absolutely something you do with your exes,” Dorothy replied, grimacing. “Ugh. I should have realized you had a thing for her earlier anyway. Remember that brunch thing you dragged me to, right after New Years?”

Charlie nodded hesitantly. “Was I obvious?”

“You were giggling. At _everything_.” There was a hint of disgust audible in Dorothy’s voice. “You only do that when you’re in deep and trying to hide it.”

“Oh lord.” She hadn’t noticed at all. What else had she done before she’d realized what she was feeling?

“It was rather horrifying,” Dorothy agreed. Her phone buzzed, rattling against the hardwood table. She picked it up and smiled, deep red lipstick curving prettily.

“What is it?” Charlie inquired. She had a sudden, inexplicable sense of impending doom.

“You’re upset because you want to talk to Hannah and can’t, right?” The other woman’s expression was unreadable. “Have the opportunity to talk to her face to face, and you’ll get over this slump of yours?”

“Yeeeees?” Charlie had no clue where this was going.

“Good.” Dorothy nodded once, firmly. “She’ll be here in five, so you better get your apology ready.”

 _“What?!”_ Charlie shrieked, leaping to her feet. The stool she’d been lounging on clattered to the floor, but she didn’t care. Her heart was pounding and she could feel her breath getting short. “Why did you do that? _How_ did you do that?”

Dorothy shrugged, infuriatingly calm. “A few minutes after you showed up I got bored and texted her to come over. She doing the photos for my new ads, and I told her I needed input on color or something. I was pretty vague to be honest, but she must be bored with you out of her life or something, since she said she’s almost here.”

Charlie paced the small room, the sound of her clunking boots echoing off the empty walls. She didn’t know whether to be enraged or overjoyed, and finally settled on terrified. “This is going to go so badly.”

“It’ll be fine,” Dorothy said. She rose and rounded the table to Charlie’s side. “She’s going to show up, you’ll be nerdily uncomfortable enough to convince her you didn’t plan this, I’ll leave the room long enough for you to apologize and her to forgive you, we’ll all platonically go out for shots, and I’ll get my sanity back.”

“You really think she’ll forgive me that quickly?” Charlie asked, voice small. “I mean, I’m aware that what I did was wrong and I’m gonna prove it, but the root cause hasn’t changed. I still…”

“You’re still gaga over her,” Dorothy finished, sympathy for once evident. She thought for a moment, then pulled the shorter woman into a hug.

“Ummmm?” Even when they’d dated, Dorothy had never been a very physical person (aside from the obvious that is).

“I’m only going to say this once, and I don’t need you looking at me while I do, so shut up and listen.”

Charlie did.

Dorothy shifted uncomfortably, arms tightening and loosening. “You’re not going to have an easy time being friends with her at first. Even after being rejected you’re going to keep having daydreams. You’re going to smile whenever she walks into the room. You’re going to see her happy and wish so goddamn hard it was because of you.”

Charlie wanted to jump in, ask how exactly this was supposed to be reassuring, but kept her mouth shut. Dorothy continued.

“But you’re going to be alright,” Dorothy said forcefully, the words blasting past Charlie’s ear. “Romantic love and platonic love are both good things.”

“What I feel isn’t platonic though!” Staying quiet had never been one of Charlie’s strengths, especially when she was nervous. “You’re telling me that’s alright?”

Even pressed up against her, Charlie could tell Dorothy was frowning in exasperation. The woman’s expressions were full body experiences.

“I’m telling you love can _change_. We used to love each other romantically.” Dorothy’s words rushed together, filled with uncharacteristic emotion. “Just because we don’t anymore doesn’t mean I love you any less. I may love you differently, but there’s always room in my heart for you. And that, Red, is why you’ll be alright.”

“God Dorothy.” Charlie choked out a laugh, then buried her head in her friend’s shoulder, not minding the way the leather jacket covering rubbed against her skin. “Where the hell were you hiding all that? Thank you, though, really. I love you too, you know that? So much.”

“Oh!”

And that was when the universe decided to screw Charlie over once more. Because standing in the doorway, eyes wide, mouth agape, was Hannah.

“Hannah!” Charlie shouted, jumping back with enough force to send Dorothy stumbling to the side. “I, um, I didn’t know you were going to be here!” Shit. That wasn’t how she’d wanted to start this conversation at all.

“Clearly,” Hannah muttered, then flinched, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth. Charlie felt her heart sting at the harshness contained in that solitary word. Was Hannah that upset she was here? And if she was, why had she immediately looked so remorseful?

Before she got the chance to try to respond, Hannah continued. Awkwardly. Everything about this encounter was turning out to be incredibly awkward. “I’m very sorry for intruding on...this.” She waved her hand, gesturing from the floundering Charlie to the stiff Dorothy, standing in silence against the far wall. “I should probably leave.”

“Why?” Seriously, what? Charlie was lost. Hannah was supposed to be angry about this forced meeting, not hesitant and uncomfortable.

“I’m very glad for you two,” Hannah rushed, face pained, “but I’d really rather not be around for this. It seems private and, and not for me, and you’re happy which is the important thing of course, and—”

“Wait a minute.” Both women’s heads swiveled to the room’s other occupant, who’d taken a step forward as she spoke. Dorothy was staring at Hannah, eyes narrow and inquisitive. “Are you, are you _jealous?”_

Charlie burst out laughing. She couldn’t help it; the past week had been so emotionally tumultuous that she barely knew what to feel anymore. And the idea of Hannah being jealous, of her and Dorothy no less, was obviously ludicrous to her fried brain.

Except no one else was laughing. As her giggles trailed off, Charlie realized that Dorothy was giving her a death glare to rival the ones she used on cases. Turning to Hannah—she at least had to see the humor in this—she was shocked to see the woman looked almost panicked.

When it became clear nobody was planning on speaking, Charlie put out tentatively, “You’re jealous of our friendship?” Desperately grasping at straws was always a smart plan, good going Charlie.

Now Hannah looked as confused as Charlie felt. “Aren’t you two back together? That is why you were telling each other you’re in love, right?”

“With Dorothy?!” Charlie felt like the world had tipped on its axis. Maybe she was in a different dimension and had only just realized? “But I’m in love with you!”

Hannah froze. Charlie froze. Dorothy, forgotten in the commotion, considered the likelihood of sneaking out the window without them noticing. She decided against it and settled in to watch the drama.

“You see,” Charlie heard herself say. Well, the situation was less than ideal—basically the opposite of ideal—but it was still her best chance to explain. Better to get it over with. “I swear I didn’t become your friend because I liked you, any more than as a friend I mean. It’s just, you’re really pretty and really nice and just generally amazing and I couldn’t help it! Falling in love with you, that is. But I got the message at the Valentine’s Day panel, which I am so sorry about by the way. You’re aro, you’re not interested, that’s cool. Totally coolio. Give me a while to get over you and I’ll be back to your awesome platonic friend. If you want to be friends again of course, which I’d understand if you don’t.”

As Charlie babbled on and on, Hannah’s face had gotten redder and redder. When her blazing crush finally stalked forward, Charlie broke off her, admittedly directionless, spiel so she could devote all her energy to wishing there was a door to hide behind.

“Charlie,” Hannah said, then grabbed her hands. The grip was warm. In the back of her mind, behind the ‘what the hell is happening’ that had been playing in a loop since Hannah showed up, Charlie faintly wondered if her hands were too sweaty. That’d be just her luck.

“Charlie,” Hannah repeated, her eyes intently focused. “I’m _demi_.”

“Sexual?” Charlie tried, voice squeaking. She was pretty sure that was wrong.

“Romantic.” A smile began to form on Hannah’s face. “I’m demiromantic.”

“Which means?” Charlie prompted, staring up at the taller woman. She wasn’t letting her hopes get up just yet, even if her heart felt like it was about to break a rib from pounding.

“It means,” Hannah whispered, leaning in close, “that ‘not interested’ isn’t exactly a good description for how I feel about you.”

Almost instinctively, Charlie poked out her tongue to lick her lips. Hannah’s eyes darted down and her smile widened. Slowly, leaving plenty of time for Charlie to move if she wanted, Hannah bridged the distance between them.

The kiss was soft, gently, achingly sweet. Charlie’d had plenty more passionate first kisses, more dramatic ones, more exciting ones. But, as her eyes slipped shut, Charlie couldn’t help but think this one outdid them all.

“Well, this has all been deliciously romcomy.”

Dorothy’s dry voice broke through the fog in Charlie’s mind. She pulled back, missing the taste of Hannah’s lips the moment they parted. Keeping her hold on one of Charlie’s hands, Hannah straightened too, turning to frown at the woman who’d interrupted them. “But?”

Dorothy smirked, unperturbed by Hannah’s displeasure. “But I think we’d all prefer if I leave you two to your business. I know I’d at least like to go drink some bourbon and cleanse myself of this sugar-fest. You ladies alright with that?”

“Actually,” Charlie said, glancing at Hannah as she did so, “you mentioned shots, earlier? I’d still be up for us all going out. Sort of a celebration, maybe?”

Hannah’s hold on her hand tightened, but she nodded. “Some loss of sobriety would definitely be appreciated after the week I’ve had.”

Charlie winced at the reminder of her recent screw-up. She stayed quiet as Dorothy grabbed her keys, telling them to meet her at the bar by her apartment, if they didn’t get distracted by each other, and sped out the door.

“Hannah,” she mumbled when the other woman began to follow. “I’m really really sorry about before.”

“I know,” Hannah said, reaching up to put a loose strand of hair behind Charlie’s ear.

“And I’m not going to push your boundaries, ever. You say stop, I’m off you like a magnet.”

“I know,” Hannah said again, hand stopping to rest against Charlie’s cheek.

“I love you,” Charlie whispered, reveling in the thrill that went through her at being able to say it out loud.

“I know,” Hannah said, one last time, and leaned in for another kiss.

It was even better than their first.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact-this was supposed to be called All I Want for Christmas Is You. Because this was originally going to take place during Christmas. Yeah, that ended up happening.
> 
> Fun fact #2-I couldn't fit this into the fic, but Dorothy is a bounty hunter. Because if modern au Dorothy Baum driving around on her motorcycle taking down bad guys isn't one of your daydreams, I don't know what you do with your life.
> 
> Fun fact #3-I didn't plan on having them kiss at first, but Hannah was pretty damn insistent. She had to put up with a lot in this fic, so I let her have it.
> 
> Fun fact #4-I have a [ tumblr](http://theoncomingcroat.tumblr.com/)! Come say hi, come tell me you loved the fic, come tell me you think I'd be better off burning all my writing. I don't really mind tbh, as long as it's your honest opinion.


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